This is for the mothers who have sat up all night
with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer
wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's alright honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who
can't be comforted. This is for all the mothers who show up at work with
spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their
purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween
costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T. This is for the mothers who gave
birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies
and gave them homes. And for the mothers who lost their baby in that
precious 9 months that they will never get to watch grow on earth but one
day will be reunited with in Heaven! This is for the mothers whose priceless
art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football
or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that
when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I
wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it. This is for all the
mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in
despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner.
And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child
abuse happens. This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children
and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who
wanted to, but just couldn't find the words. This is for all the mothers who
go hungry, so their children can eat. For all the mothers who read
"Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just
one more time."This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie
their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who
opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.This is for every mother
whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd,
even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at
college. This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomach aches assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick
>them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray,
who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the step-mothers who
raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention,
and love... sometimes totally unappreciated! For all the mothers who bite
their lips until they bleed when their 14-year-olds dye their hair
green. For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and
the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors,
and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their
child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers
who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home
safely from a war. What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience?
Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew
a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it
the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the
street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that
takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand
on the back of a sleeping baby? The panic, years later, that comes again
at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they
are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and
hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child
dying? The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for
young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home
mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers
without. This is for you all. For all of us. Hang in there.
In the end we can
only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them.
:
:
:
on the lack of sleep.
He has definitely stopped listening to me during the day and starts going through everything!
: Me too!
He has asked for milk, but won't nurse, I think because of the stuffy nose. Is this it? I'm worried that I'll lose my milk....
: 
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